made some awesome friends, drank a lot of beer, did a lot of speed and, well, had a pretty good time.
i just want to say that joyrider is one of the coolest guys i've ever met. and tuffy beat me at pool. bastard ... that was a lame table anyway. muller and puntmedias ... bring it down to LV where the dope is cheap and the tits are plentiful at cheetah's. same goes to suiciety. minimalism, hook up the new york tip. digdug is the man, BTW.
for those concerned, i'm not dead. hell, i ran out of medicine early on thursday evening. i was forced to leave early, however, because the heat, crowdedness and atrocious music was too much to bear. i found my way to a little hole somewhere in downtown portland where i got severely shitfaced, chatted up some chicas and finally stumbled back to the hotel where i promptly passed out. i've heard i missed quite a show at the party but, um, yeah. my nerves were grated, i was out of drugs and in a foul mood, so i left.
regardless, portland was a great town. clean and ridden with culture i could probably deal with. cigarettes weren't too expensive, drinks were cheap and there were a stupid amount of hot chicks that wandered by the starbucks i spent most of my downtime at. the whole closed at 2am thing sucks the butt, i'm afraid. only drawback that was noted. then again, i consider myself a child of vegas now, so i really can't be blamed. and i was disapointed in that i didn't get to molest anyone. oh well.
on a completely unrelated note, i spoke with jessica today and things may not be finished. to be continued.
and an even MORE unrelated note, i returned home to find my hard drive had died. poor bastard. bye bye archived email and 3 years worth of bookmarks. fortunately, all important shwag was located on the external firewire drive but it's a tragic loss nonetheless.
with that said -- there're numerous san friscans that should come to vegas. soon. very soon, even.
i just want to say that joyrider is one of the coolest guys i've ever met. and tuffy beat me at pool. bastard ... that was a lame table anyway. muller and puntmedias ... bring it down to LV where the dope is cheap and the tits are plentiful at cheetah's. same goes to suiciety. minimalism, hook up the new york tip. digdug is the man, BTW.
for those concerned, i'm not dead. hell, i ran out of medicine early on thursday evening. i was forced to leave early, however, because the heat, crowdedness and atrocious music was too much to bear. i found my way to a little hole somewhere in downtown portland where i got severely shitfaced, chatted up some chicas and finally stumbled back to the hotel where i promptly passed out. i've heard i missed quite a show at the party but, um, yeah. my nerves were grated, i was out of drugs and in a foul mood, so i left.
regardless, portland was a great town. clean and ridden with culture i could probably deal with. cigarettes weren't too expensive, drinks were cheap and there were a stupid amount of hot chicks that wandered by the starbucks i spent most of my downtime at. the whole closed at 2am thing sucks the butt, i'm afraid. only drawback that was noted. then again, i consider myself a child of vegas now, so i really can't be blamed. and i was disapointed in that i didn't get to molest anyone. oh well.
on a completely unrelated note, i spoke with jessica today and things may not be finished. to be continued.
and an even MORE unrelated note, i returned home to find my hard drive had died. poor bastard. bye bye archived email and 3 years worth of bookmarks. fortunately, all important shwag was located on the external firewire drive but it's a tragic loss nonetheless.
with that said -- there're numerous san friscans that should come to vegas. soon. very soon, even.
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niceta meetcha, man.
and yes, i'm still alive. in spirit, at least.